


Aftermath

by Kawaiicoyote



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Killjoys, Established Relationship, M/M, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/pseuds/Kawaiicoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past is remembered. Love ones are mourned. A punch is thrown. All under the desert sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Random out of the blue inspiration. My first attempt at the Killjoy verse. Enjoy?

The wind is cool compared to the blazing sun overhead that scorches everything it touches. Their car is fast and too quiet as it motors down the empty desert highway.

Fun Ghoul keeps his eyes on the road, the neon green mask he wears barely hanging onto his lank dirty hair. The silence between him and Party Poison is deafening. He can hear it over the wind that fills their ears as it pours in through the broken dirty windows of their car. It’s the silence that makes Fun Ghoul keep his eyes on the task at hand. He knows for sure if he looks over at Party Poison he’ll completely lose it.

He knows he’ll pull the car over and launch himself at his companion. Knows his fists will fly until they’re as red as the other man’s quickly fading hair.

Yes, they lost them.  Kobra Kid, Party’s brother, and their friend Jet Star. He knows that as well as anyone else. But he can’t take that back, he can’t bring them back no matter how much he wants to. But the silent brooding of Party is driving him insane. Fun Ghoul just wants him to show some kind of emotion. Anger, blind raging anger that leaves him breathless and riled up, or sadness, at that moment he wishes the other man would just _cry_ for fucks sake.

It bothers him that Party hasn’t cried over his baby brother’s death, hasn’t mourned their friend’s death. It unnerves him to his very core. Even he, the goofy happy go lucky clown that always smiles, had wept when they were out of harm’s way.

They pass a mile marker, it’s bent and twisted, the numbers on it rusted off completely, and he can’t take it any longer. Ghoul stomps on the brake, knowing there isn’t any chance of another car for miles and miles. The car skids and fishtails but finally comes to a stop, the air filled with a cloud of dirt and the smell of burned rubber.

Ghoul rounds on Party, twisting completely until he’s awkwardly kneeling and stooping on the driver’s seat, looming over the older man who is slouched down in his seat and looking thoroughly checked out of reality. He looks completely unphased by Ghoul’s outburst. It makes him want to rip out his greasy black hair. Instead he settles for hastily whipping off the toxic green monster mask, and tosses it into the backseat of the car.

It’s the punch that catches Party off-guard. It stings Ghouls knuckles and for a moment he stares down at his balled up fist, horrified at himself. He’d never struck Party before; he hadn’t even been intending to really hit him. Okay, slap him a little, but not full out sucker punch him.

An apology hangs on Ghoul’s lip, but dies when Party’s glassy hazel eyes meet his. He sees the pain in them, pain that has nothing to do with the already blooming bruise on his cheek.

“I wanna go home Frankie,” Party breathes, his voice raspy and broken from being unused. Ghoul sinks down, back into his seat and looks at the other man, eyes wide. He looks on at him like an alien.

_Frankie._

Their old life bursts through his mind, rips through the stitches and scars he’d put over his heart and leaves him aching. He’d almost forgotten his name.

In that instant everything is changed.

 _Frank_ crawls over the gear shift and crawls into the man’s lap where thin but strong arms are open and waiting. They circle him and hold onto him for dear life.

“I know Gee,” Frank manages to say against Gerard’s neck as he clings onto him just as hard. “We’ll go home. I promise.”

They both know it’s a promise that might be able to be kept. But neither of them cares. They’re both homesick, both missing everything they had. Both mourning what could have been, should have been, what never will be.

Frank is startled when he feels warm wetness seep onto his shoulder, but doesn’t pull away. Gerard, for the first time, is silently weeping. Letting go of all the pain he’s bottled up since hell broke up and made them all grow up too quickly. Gerard’s body quakes but Frank just holds onto him tighter. He’ll never let go, not until Gerard does first. Gerard’s fingers dig into Frank’s dirty torn vest, fisting the material tight, and Frank lets him.

The sun is just beginning to dip below the outstretched horizon before them when Gerard’s hold finally loosens and drops away. Frank stiffly uncurls himself from the man’s lap crawls back into the driver’s seat and starts the car.

Silence falls between them again, but it is comfortable this time. They’re both still hurting, but know that they have one another to lean on.

Frank flips on the car’s headlights, and rolls his eyes when only one pops to life, just barely bright enough to light the road ahead of them. He isn’t very surprised.

“Home?” Frank prompts, glancing towards Gerard, eyes lingering on his blotchy and slightly swollen face.

The other man nods as he stares out the cracked dusty windshield, “Home.”

After a quick U-turn, Frank guns it. The night chilled desert air fills the interior of the car as they barrel back up the road and Frank is surprised when something reaches his ear.

Gerard is singing, just loud enough to be heard over the rushing wind. Frank grins and joins in, belting along with him to the old, almost forgotten tune.

He doesn’t know if the broken shambles of “home” will be there, but he knows they’re both ready to find out.


End file.
